The allure of the atmospheric Isle of Skye, Scotland’s northernmost island of the Inner Hebrides, is by no means a secret. While the landmass is a quarter in size of the state of Delaware, the island’s population swells from 10,000 to 650,000 each year to welcome intrepid travelers drawn to the island’s dramatic landscapes, storied history, and rich cultural heritage.
The rugged terrain is marked by the rolling hills of the Black Cuillin mountain range, which cuts through the mist sweeping in off the sea that earns Skye its name, which charmingly translates to “Cloud Island” in Norse. The area’s cultural history and heritage is just as captivating as its landscape, drawing visitors who are eager to step back in time and connect to an ancientness that doesn’t seem to exist elsewhere.
But in recent years, something new has been brewing in Skye. Led by once-in-a-generation talent who grew up on the island, trained in some of the best kitchens in the world, and then returned to Skye, a vibrant culinary scene has emerged. Now, among its ancient rock formations, folklore, and fairy pools, Skye has a new claim to fame: food.
How could a place 100 miles away from the nearest city become a globally renowned fine dining hot spot? Perhaps not in spite of its location, but because of it.
Food in Skye is as seasonal as it gets, by choice and also by circumstance. Anything not grown on the island is brought in from the nearest city, Inverness (still two hours away by car). The remote location disconnects restaurants from relying on global supply chains, so the chefs are deeply connected to the land.
As such, its fine dining establishments redefine extreme seasonality, with the chefs often gathering ingredients themselves. At Café Cùil, pancakes are topped with vivid yellow gorse flowers hand-picked by owner Clare Coghill. Calum Montgomery, of 4 AA-Rosette Edinbane Lodge, has been known to catch the restaurant s scallops himself. Scorrybreac’s Calum Munro forages for seasonal fruits and even sea buckthorn, which can only be harvested tediously by hand, for every chocolate and buckwheat dessert he sends out—no effort is spared.
The food scene on Skye isn’t only unique in its freshness where produce is concerned, it’s also uncommonly friendly and familiar. While fine dining has been known to have a cut-throat reputation (I assume we’ve all seen The Bear?), the tight-knit food community on Skye means that many of the main players are lifelong friends, and even family. Niall Munro, founder of Birch, is Scorrybreac’s Calum Munro’s brother, and spent many of his summers working at the restaurant. In 2017, Niall Munro partnered with Coghill to enter the cooking show, My Kitchen Rules, where they beat out 20 other teams and further cemented the notion that Skye is no longer small fry in the global restaurant game, despite its generous and approachable ethos. If some of the stunning pottery Calum Montgomery uses in Edinbane Lodge is broken at service, he walks across the lane to Edinbane Pottery, an independent ceramics studio owned by their friends, to grab another plate.
Where to Stay
It’s the island’s unique culinary culture that draws two friends and I to Skye in early March for an off-season road trip through the island. Beckoned by the promise of less traffic at the Fairy Pools—and the hope of securing every sought-after reservation we want—the three of us head North to spend a long weekend at the enchanting Mint Croft Skye, a former crofter’s house lovingly restored by architect duo James Ross Mitchell and Carolina Larrazábal into a delightful two-bedroom cottage on the Waternish peninsula.
In the morning, the sun reflects over the Loch Snizort, creating a mesmerizing mirror effect that feels like you’re at the end of the earth. The idyllic scene, made even more bucolic with chickens and sheep ambling across the lane, requires every ounce of willpower to pull ourselves out of the ridiculously comfy bed. But we have places to see, and more importantly, meals to eat!
Where to Eat and Drink
The first stop on our foodie itinerary is Café Cùil, a red tin roofed bolthole with floor-to-ceiling windows that frame the mountainous vista and loch we’re about to dine next to. The buzzy brunch spot in Carbost is owned by Chef Clare Coghill, who grew up in Skye and later returned to the island after opening the first branch of Cùil in Hackney. We fawn over each dish as it’s placed on our crowded-from-over-ordering table, but the beef brisket rarebit—one of the only menu staples that stays put whatever the season—is the true standout. Followed closely, I must say, by the Scotch pancakes, which arrive topped with a mountain highland rhubarb, gingernut crumble, and gorse mascarpone, which has just come into season.
The café is located a 20-minute drive from the Fairy Pools, near Glenbrittle, which are a rite of passage for any Skye first-timers. As none of us have been to the island before, we immediately head there after brunch—perhaps unwise immediately post-rarebit. While the drive should take a mere 20 minutes, several stops to take photos of the other-wordly landscapes, and a delightful run-in with a pair of Highland cows, all extend our travel time, but the destination is decidedly worth the wait.
Stepping out of the car, the Black Cuillin mountain range unrolls before us, and the winding path of the Fairy Pools snakes between waterfalls and natural springs. Luckily—with it being the off-season—the path isn’t yet packed with people, so we spend the next several hours ambling up the trail, dipping our hands in the springs, and ultimately building up the courage to go for a full cold plunge.
Next, we warm our bones in a pub in Portree, Skye’s largest town, moseying around the honey-hued harbor at golden hour and working up an appetite.
Dinner is at Scorrybreac, the fine dining restaurant owned by Calum Munro, which he originally opened in his parents’ front room in 2013, after cutting his teeth in kitchens from Vancouver to Paris for years. The restaurant is now in a former fisherman’s cottage, perched over the Portree Harbour with mesmerizing views of the hill, Ben Tainavaig. The food—modern Scottish cuisine with international influences—makes me rethink my aversion to the only local delicacy I’ve never quite got on board with: haggis. The black corn tortilla topped with the savory sheep offal pudding—as well as black garlic and pickled shallots—makes time stop for me for a second.
A visit to Skye is not complete without visiting Birch, the coffee mecca owned by Calum’s brother, Niall, who has brought his favorite aspects of Melbourne’s coffee scene to Skye. With a cult following for their small batch brewing and lines out the door for their Portree and Inverness locations, Munro recently opened the Birch Bakery Roastery on the outskirts of Portree, complete with in impressive line-up of classic French pastries with Tessa Biriotti, Parisian-born pastry chef, at its helm.
It’s hard to put a finger on just why the space feel so effortlessly cool, but it has to be the touch of Munro, who—if he’s not dreaming up seasonal flavor combinations for the brunch menu—might be caught skateboarding to work or finalizing the line-up for the Skye Live Festival, his electronic and contemporary folk weekend that runs every May. Although no doubt inspired by the career of his father, Donnie Munro, the former lead singer of iconic Scottish rock band, Runrig, he certainly brings his own flavor to café culture on the island.
Our final dinner on Skye is at Edinbane Lodge, the restaurant with rooms started by Calum Montgomery, who grows many of his ingredients on the lodge’s grounds. It’s here that I taste smoked heather for the first time, atop gelato for dessert.
The flavor may be new to me, but the smell is not. Earlier in the day, we’d seen a group gathered around a large fire, which we learn is because it’s Falasgair season—a time where the controlled burn of the heather and other vegetation is allowed to promote new plant growth. Montgomery’s Falasgair dessert is made by starting their own (controlled!) “Falasgair” at the restaurant, where they burn heather and use it to infuse milk to make an ice cream.
The dessert sits atop almond sponge and praline (representing the earth on the hills), and includes a smoked heather caramel, a jelly made of Torabhaig whiskey (Skye’s peatiest whiskey), and a crowning of dehydrated heather flowers. The taste is immediately familiar as a result, yet surprisingly distinct—Calum’s clever way of helping you taste Skye without realizing what has occurred.
By divine timing, our journey home coincides perfectly with the Sunday roast service at the spectacular Kinloch Lodge, the family-owned hotel started by Claire Macdonald, the famed Scottish cookery writer. Run today by Claire’s daughter, Isabella—sister of Hugo Macdonald from Bard—the place is the perfect picture of hospitality. Isabella ushers us into the sitting room as though we are long-lost friends with such a warmth that it makes me believe that we are. After a spectacular three course roast, there’s nothing more I’d like to do than take a nap on the gorgeous tasseled sofa in front of the crackling fire, but our quest home awaits us. I promise Isabella that I’ll return with more time, but I don’t think any number of days here would ever feel like a long enough stay.
As we head over the Skye Bridge and back to the mainland, my heart is already homesick for the place I’ve just visited—an unmistakable sign of a soul-soothing (and appetite-satisfying) trip. I lament the itinerary boxes that didn’t get ticked—the idea of pub grub at The Stein Inn and a leisurely meal at the Three Chimneys are still high on my culinary hit list—but now I can wholly appreciate why Skye holds such a gastronomical allure. Four days and three nights is just enough to taste the beauty of Skye for yourself. I can barely wait to fill my plate again.